Hermia's Diary
by Double Remedy
Summary: Hermia writes about her first meeting Lysander, and the consequences that abruptly followed.


Dear Diary,  
  
This may be the last time I write within these pages. I have had enough of my father's nonsense. I will marry Lysander no matter what the consequences are. Marriage - what is it really about? Is it about land or money or wealth or looks or career? No, marriage is about love and faith and tenderness and patience. I will choose to spend the rest of my life with the man I love, not the man he loves.  
  
I remember the first time I met Lysander. It was a warm day one summer ago. I asked Father for a cart so I could take the clothes to the river and do the laundry. I sang songs to amuse myself whilst doing the work, and after I was done for the day, I went swimming in the nearby lake. I was enjoying myself in a good-natured fashion, when I heard a rumbling in the bushes nearby. Startled at the noise, I slowly brought myself out of the lake, put my toga back on, and reached for the bow and arrow I kept in my knapsack, a pretty token I stole from my father for my secret love of archery. Dusk had spread on the western sky her fingers of purple shades. I had no clue what was in the shrubbery. I strung the bow and pulled back the arrow, aiming just above the bush. Heart pounding in my chest, I saw a blurry form rise from the bushes suddenly, and I let the arrow fly, just as I realized my mistake. Thankfully, my arrow was turned by a wind - no doubt sent by one of the gods - and before me I saw the cowering figure of a man. Still shaking, he slowly stood up to greet me.  
  
He was tall and lean. He seemed a bit above my age and had curly auburn tresses. For a moment I was frightened - what if he be a god, and I, in my illogical state-of-mind, tried to shoot him? As my gaze locked on to his, I saw within the depths of his dark blue eyes trust and understanding. It is ironic - I had tried to shoot this man with my own arrow, and yet I have been struck myself by Cupid's silver one.  
  
"Good lady, I beg of you do no harm to me, please! I am Lysander of Athens. Whether woman or goddess I cannot tell, for your voice and appearance are that of the immortals," he complimented. I was entranced by his deep voice. "I think you may have dropped this as you were passing by. I found it on the path, and wished to return it to you."  
  
He handed me a necklace all of gold. A charm in the middle was made of amber and crescent-shaped like the moon. I gasped. This was the necklace my mother had given me right before she died. I must've dropped it on the way to the river.  
  
"Your charm has swept me away. My name is Hermia. I apologize for the arrow - it was instinctual and animalistic and -"  
  
He put his fingers to my lips. Then he kissed me.  
  
For the next couple months he courted me and offered me all sorts of gifts, trinkets, and curios. He serenaded outside my window many a night. I was deeply in love. By this time, however, my father finally brought up the subject of marriage. He told me that he had found the perfect bachelor for my husband, a man named Demetrius. My eyes widened in shock! This was the man that, after giving so much love and heart to my best friend, Helena, abandoned her and crushed her. I couldn't believe my ears! This was when I finally admitted to my father who I had been seeing. My father became outraged and shouted at me, telling me that I had no say in such affairs. O spite!  
  
I have since begged, pleaded, and tried to persuade my father's heart into allowing me to marry Lysander. His heart was, and unfortunately is, stiff and stubborn. Today he caught Lysander and I kissing, and he'd had enough. He grabbed me by the wrist and ordered that Lysander come too. Before I knew what was going on, I was half-dragged into King Theseus's palace, Lysander and Demetrius trailing. My father stated the dilemma and the king put the old Athenian law to my disadvantage: Either I marry Demetrius or become a nun. Well, I choose neither! I will stand up for the ones I love no matter what I have to be put through.  
  
I must stop writing now. It is nearing an hour to midnight, and I must rendezvous with my lover.  
Love always,  
Hermia 


End file.
